


The Ravens

by miabicicletta



Series: Space and Time [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Covert operations colleagues enjoying a meal, Crossover, F/M, FIFA, The Ravens, breadsticks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miabicicletta/pseuds/miabicicletta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>London gossip, avian surveillance, undermining FIFA via 51st century tech—just another lunch with Mycroft Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ravens

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, a thing! The once-promised follow up to **[The Expanding Universe](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2211210)**. Though, forgive, I rather preferred the idea of Kate and Mycroft meeting in person. Enjoy, my mad, mad friends.

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart shoved her way into the posh Mayfair restaurant, glancing up from her mobile just long enough to avoid collision with a smartly dressed young waiter. Park benches made for infinitely more serene lunchtimes, in her opinion, but when Mycroft Holmes rang one did not pass on the call. She righted herself and caught the sharp eyes of her old friend and colleague.

“Always a pleasure, Lady Lethbridge-Stewart,” Mycroft remarked, rising to offer a tart-but-tickled nod. 

“Rarely if ever, I should think.” She adjusted her blazer and smiled apologetically to the nearly-tackled waiter.

“You give yourself too little credit.” 

“Oh, chuck your diplomacy for an hour, Myc,” Kate sighed, slipping into her plush chair and snatching a breadstick from the overstuffed basket. “With all the incidents I’ve run up to your office, I half expect to be met with a Teselecta each time we're scheduled for a one-on-one.” 

“Come now,” Mycroft replied. He spared a longing glance at the delectable bounty of carbs in neatly pressed linen. 

Kate took the minor distraction as opportunity to pry. “Before we start I demand—What’s this news about that terribly attractive younger brother of yours?”

“Oh, dramatics, as usual. Exactly his style.” Mycroft studied the menu, turning to the salads and heaving a greatly troubled sigh. Inspired by the salads or the sibling, she could not say. “Though he’s involved in a far more unusual sort these days—He’s getting married, if you hadn’t heard.” 

“Really?” Still chewing, Kate narrowed her eyes, puzzled. “Thought that blogger of his was already tied down?” 

“The Brigadier would be appalled at your lack of intel, Lady Lethbridge-Stewart,” Mycroft teased. “Not his blogger, I’m afraid. Rather, his pathologist.” 

Kate chewed a bit more of her fluffy ciabatta. Mycroft eyed the crumbs fondly. “That the dishy, silver-foxy one?” she wondered

Mycroft smiled tightly. “The tiny, fearsome brunette.” 

“Appalled at the intel, indeed,” Kate replied, tapping her breadcrumby fingers. 

Mycroft set his menu aside dispassionately. “Dr. Molly Emilia Hooper. She’s acquainted with another mutual friend of ours,” he commented, idly. _Too_ , idly. 

“Oh?” Kate replied. _Is she?_ “Another doctor, perhaps?” 

“Indeed. She was a close companion of his during my brother’s temporary demise some years back, if you’ll recall.” 

“Well. The Christmases should be interesting,” Kate quipped, arching one highly amused brow. 

Mycroft reached for his tea, eyes widening at the thought. “Stranger things, eh?” 

“‘Twas ever thus,” Kate said with a flourish. 

“Indeed. Now, to business, shall we?” he asked. 

“Right.” 

“The Ravens?” 

“Upgraded. Both modifications of Northrop Peg and Lockheed Defender IV. Excellent lifetime and animatronic capabilities, not to mention surveillance. We use similar models in North Korea, China, and Cupertino. Drones are terribly unfashionable in the public eye; fortunately for us, the public isn’t half as observant as your brother.”

“How fortunate. Qatar?” 

“Leveraged some University of Luna tech. During the third night of Ramadan, 2016, a few highly uncommon tremors will cause irreparable damage to a small number of key stadiums. They’ll be empty, so we expect few to no casualties–”

“More than can be said of the Qataris,” Mycroft mumbled. “Or FIFA for that matter.” 

“Every scrap of rebar is insured to the _nth_ degree, so they’ll recoup their investments easily, allowing Spain and Portugal to step in and accept the tournament. They’ve the infrastructure to easily handle capacity and sorely need the economic booster jab.” 

“Excellent. Though why we go to all this trouble for a _football tournament—_ ”

“Another word and I _will_ leave," Kate growled, wielding her breadstick to ferocious effect. "Besides, don't pretend you're not all for it. Or was that just a rumor I heard about your little feud with _Monsieur Blatter_." 

Mycroft scowled. "The quip about my weight _might_ have gone unnoticed had the man not compounded the offense by taking the last scone." 

"Outrageous," Kate said, wry. 

_"He didn't even ask."_

"Knew there was a reason why that Justice Department sting moved so fast. The US rarely gets their act together so quickly." 

"Loretta is extremely capable. I barely lifted a finger," Mycroft protested with outsized innocence. "Moving on: Any incidents of note lately?” 

“The Underground transit strikes have been a pill, obviously. Honestly, you give a Silurian a tunnel, next they want a canyon...” She sighed, pouring herself a much-needed cup of coffee. “But apart from that, minimal. The Doctor has been off-world for ages. Hoping it keeps quiet.” 

“Yes. Precisely what I’m afraid of,” Mycroft said darkly. 

“He’s stayed away before,” Kate pointed out. 

“Yes. But he always gets bored, and when he gets bored, he goes looking trouble. And he always seems to have an accomplice.” 

She frowned. “You’re worried about Dr. Hooper?” 

Mycroft laughed. “Hardly. She chose to walk away from that life. No, I’m far more concerned at what _my brother_ would do when presented with the means to push the boundaries of space and time.” 

“Anything we should concern ourselves with?” 

“For the moment, no. But we should keep a weather eye out. The last thing I need is Sherlock absconding off to cause intergalactic mayhem with Sontar or getting into a shouting match with a Dalek.” 

“You know,” Kate smirked over her water glass, summoning a waiter and amusing herself with thoughts of the world’s only Consulting Detective versus the universe’s most feared species. “I should think I’d take pity on the Dalek.” 

“May we never see the day.” 

“Ah, admit it," she teased. "Be a bit fun again, wouldn’t it? Like old times.” 

“I’ll say this much, Lady Lethbridge-Stewart,” Mycroft Holmes intoned, “Where it concerns you, I am never bored.” 

Kate smiled and tore into another breadstick, knowing high praise when she saw it, indeed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, as ever, adored and appreciated :)


End file.
